The Hoard of the Wolf
by Titans R Us
Summary: The Hoard is calling. It will devour Hyrule. It will consume all. But no one wants to be saved.


The camp is wide. Filled with a wild diversity of rough tents that can be stripped down in seconds. The only thing in common with this mirage of colored cloth is the scarlet print of a wolf somewhere on each door flap.

Tremendous noise consumes the place with the smattering of tongues. It's organized chaos as people from all walks of life, from all races the Gerudo, Zora, Gorons and Hylians swarm from place to place.

Some arrange supplies and packs. Others make weapons for the new blood, the new pack. Many train others in the quick jab. Teach to aim low because it works best and if you go down? Rip out their throats so you have company meeting death.

At dusk, the fires start and soon the manmade stars spread across the plains. A fan of favored smoke permeates the air. No one goes hungry here. Everyone shares their kill. Everyone shares their meat. Yet the blood waters a spice at the back of every man and woman's throat.

The hoard will need to migrate soon. Monsters are getting scarce here.

What a pity.

A horn sounds in the distance. People rise from the fires, crowding to the east to welcome the raiding party home. Horses gallop in many hues. From bone white, to ebony to the mahogany flank of the rider in front. The champion always leads the vanguard.

He wouldn't have it any other way.

Many long to be the ones he chooses to put in the frontline with him. The rapture of fighting alongside their brother, their savior, their friend… _their hero._ No one wishes ill on the ones that survive, but each whispers to themselves that one day that space will be filled with their form.

But tonight? Tonight the raiding party is not alone. About twenty to thirty villagers from Kakariko are pulled from the horses, arms bound in front of them. Their fear stricken faces descended upon by the hoard that pushes and moves far too close.

"Shhhhhh, shhhhhh sweet darling," One coos as they take out the gag from a woman's mouth.

" _Why are you doing this?"_ She cries hysterically.

"Hush…everything is alright now." Another strokes her brown hair.

Her husband snarls, "Why did you attack our village? We've done nothing to you!"

"Attack you? Oh no. No, the hoard _saves_ people. _We saved you_." They hiss in the night.

"Saved? Our homes have been burned to the ground! Our families thrown like baggage on your horses. You people are almost as bad as the monsters!"

"Aye!" And elder calls, "At least we could keep our property when the monsters were killed. You took us against our will!"

"Not for long." The crowd almost says as one.

"Mama?" A girl wails with fat tears running down her cheeks, "I'm…scared."

"Not for long." A rough hand tilts the girl's face upwards and wipes a callused thumb underneath their eyes. She gasps. She knows this man. They all do.

It's the _Hero_.

The man is not of large stature, but he has a presence that makes you stop and look. His short blond hair gleams in the firelight with eyes that consume as his gaze travels from one villager to the next. Every fierce complaint falls silent at the figure before them. The hero doesn't call for a platform, doesn't reach for a dias. He lingers in the middle of the hoard. The center of the people that he loves and loves and loves.

He picks up the frozen child and settles her on his hip. Always at their level. Never above or below.

"Aren't you tired…of being scared?" His voice softly echoes, barely used. "Tired of loss? Tired of _rulers_ who put their needs first before your own?"

The words grow sharper, "Tired of them _waiting_ for someone _else_ to do their jobs? When it's you that pays their taxes and toll?"

Energy flows like an angry beast, coiling around the old and the new. Tightening, binding as memories chafe their broken hearts.

"How long have you starved when a bandit comes calling? How long have monsters torn your crops and barricaded you inside your houses to shiver and pray?"

A gentle smile blooms as the Hero sees that not one of the villagers is still struggling. The Horde's magic is strong; thanks to each new member that forms it.

 _"Ride with me,"_ He whispers into the night. "Drink with me."

He pulls out a flash from under his tunic. "I won't force you. _I'll never force you._ But I needed to give you all a chance. A chance to see the camp. To see what it could be."

He turns and motions for the girl to take the glass bottle. She unwraps her arms from his neck and grasps the cool shell. The inside glows mauve sparked with green. It never runs out. Never. The witch made sure of that.

"With this you can be finally free of fear. You can be free of pain. _You all have had enough of that_." Oh, Link has been theirs for so long. Isn't it time they realized they're his too?

"It's time to feel something new…. ** _Courage_**."

The girl stares at the flask and comes to a decision.

Link waits.

Then she presses the bottle to her lips and drinks. So does her mother, the husband, the elder. All of the new blood **drinks**.

The Horde is satisfied. At least for a little while.

And Link's never been happier. He can finally save them all.

All of them.

All of them.

 _All of them._

* * *

 **Notes:** That was a ball of fun. For my friend's birthday, I wanted to explore what kind of scenario could I make to create to get a possessive and possibly evil Link? I think I succeed.


End file.
